


Pull to the Light

by SilverMiko



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 1980s, 404: Ben Solo Not Found, 80s Music, AU, Abandonment Issues, Bondage, Caves, Dark, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/M, Horror, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Mates, Monsters, Mothlo, Mothman, Predator/Prey, Psychic Bond, Rey is no damsel, Romance, Shapeshifting, Size Kink, Thriller, Violence, Voice Kink, allusions to sorcery, crack written serious, grandpa issues, he cant read her poker face but he can take a poker to the face, he was a moth she was a girl can i make it anymore obvious, no one here is soft, requisite dark woods, scar kink, wax kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 20:52:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMiko/pseuds/SilverMiko
Summary: 1980's West Virginia. Rey had heard tell of the Mothman since settling in the small town of Point Pleasant. Well, she'd seen worse things in real life growing up, so tall tales by drunken patrons at the bar didn't shake her. She didn't believe in monster stories, until she was in one.Kylo Ren doesn't care for humans, long since leaving that world behind to become what he was always meant to be and fulfill his grandfather's legacy. He was an apex predator, a creature with no equal. And then, he met her. The girl with that look in her eye and spine of steel, who somehow he has formed a strange bond with that should not be possible. He feels the pull to her light, feels drawn to her to an almost obsessive degree and craves her to be by his side.The lines between predator and prey are about to blur.





	Pull to the Light

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Reylo Tumblr community, who came up with Mothlo and I am merely rolling with it as promised and delivering the glorious crack written darkly serious.

_ West Virginia, 1984 _

 

For as long as Rey lived in Point Pleasant, she’d heard stories of the creature. Don’t tarry by the woods at night, stay off the dirty road (you know the one) and if you hear a buzzing you best run. They said it was seven feet long, black as pitch save for bright eyes that shone as red as the fires of Hell. Miss Rey Abrams paid little to heed to them, it was just folktales like the Jersey Devil up North or Bigfoot. When one grew up an orphan in the system, and a girl at that, well...there were worse things in reality than what the townsfolk made up nearly twenty years ago.

Besides, the closing shift at the bar got the most tips, especially when the bartender when a ‘pretty little thing’ as the regulars liked to say. It bristled her, but they left decent tips and what did it matter if they tried to convince her to let them take her home, or to their home, so the big bad Mothman wouldn’t get her at night. She just laughed.

“Darling, I’ve been closing shop and driving these roads all hours of night and never heard a peep or a buzz. Besides, all I need to do is put on a smile and say ‘Mr. Mothman, drink of the house if you don’t kill me.’ Easy as pie.”

And they laughed too, shaking their heads at her. She’d made it clear to the locals of Point Pleasant that she was anything but a sad little orphan Annie with an English accent. She was no damsel in distress, even when her bank account was low and she’d lived on the bar’s pizza and onion rings. Maybe it wasn’t a fancy life, but it was hers and hers alone and it had always be her and it was something. Better than nothing.

At 2 AM she called last call, and half an hour later she was locking the door and shivering in her too-thin parka. It was a cold night, the kind where the moon shined its brightest with a luminescent ring around it that likely meant more snow. Her breath came out in puffs and she rubbed hands together. One day she’d get gloves before her hands chapped completely. At least her beat up old Ford had heat. 

It wasn’t a long drive home to her small cabin at the edge of the hills. Fifteen minutes cutting through the woodland road and her empty bed would be there for her until it was time to get up and repeat her day. She turned onto the dirt path, the tall pines with snow capped needles obscuring the moonlight and scattering it. Pop music played on her radio, some years old Ultravox song. She didn’t seem the notice the pale cool light got darker, blotted out by shadows, and since her radio was near garbage she didn’t recognize that a faint buzzing noise was coming from outside the car. 

 

_ Lying and waiting _

_ A man in the dark in a picture frame _

_ So mystic and soulful _

_ A voice reaching out in a piercing cry _

_ It stays with you until…. _

But she did notice, a fraction too late, the deer that skittered quickly out into the road as if death itself was on its heels. She had no time to react and panicked, swerving and hitting the brakes but the momentum and the black ice that clung to the dirt propelled her car over the railing and upside down against one of the mighty pines.

She blinked, feeling everything and nothing all at onces and Rey had a vague idea of something thick and warm trickling into her eyes, blood likely. She could still hear that piece of shit radio playing until her eyelids fluttered shut and she felt herself slip into the dark. 

_ The feeling has gone only you and I _

_ It means nothing to me _

_ This means nothing to me _

_ Oh, Vienna _

 

Dimly, she heard the crunch of steel and glass and where she’d been cold before laying upside down in her totalled car, she felt large hands grab at her. They didn’t feel quite right, not that she’d had many hands on her despite the few who tried. Someone was moving her, pulling her out the seat until she had a sense of being scooped up by someone wearing some type of soft coat. Fleece maybe? Whoever they were they were strong. Under the coat sleeves she could tell there was muscle. Maybe a nearby farmer or neighbor? 

Her head rattled and buzzed, a white noise crowding everything as felt them shift with movement and heard the loud crunching of snow beneath her unknown hero’s feet. She groaned, shifting but oh! It hurt to move. 

Suddenly through the din around her and in her mind a deep voice rasped.

_ “Be still.” _

The deep baritone sounded off somehow, but it soothed her nonetheless, lulling her to return to that deep deep dark where nothing hurt and everything was still and it wasn’t cold. She felt warm, so warm.

 

It was the smell of smoke and the crackling of fire that stirred her awake some time later, and  Jesus, Mary and Simon LeBon did she ache. She felt like she’d been hit by a car. Oh right, she had. Sort of. Her eyes slowly opened, adjusting the flickering firelight bouncing off a dark ceiling. The ceiling was rock? She shifted her gaze around more; no, not ceiling after all but a cave of some sorts. 

Maybe her mysterious was actually Bigfoot? 

“Get a grip, Rey, you didn’t hit your head that hard,” she groaned to herself, sitting up ever so slightly.

As she looked around, she heard something ring in her ears like a buzzing sounds or something like flapping. Bats, maybe? She then heard heavy footsteps and shuffling scratching sound, like something scraping against stone. 

Shit, maybe it  _ was _ Bigfoot or worse, some pervy miner and here she was without a weapon. All things considered, she might as well do the stupid thing.

“Hello? Is someone there?”

The shuffling steps got louder and something flashed in the distant, two red points like train crossing signals in the night except these did not blink as it came closer she realized with slow-awakening horror that it wasn’t light but a pair of beaming red eyes.

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

The large dark shape moved closer and as it drew near the orange glow of the fire she could make out the shape of wings. She gulped.

“Ge...Gee, Mr. Mothman, uh...if you don’t kill me I’ll give you a drink on the house?” She was babbling, but if she made this out alive she could tell the boys at the bar she’d made good on her word when faced with the Mothman.

Finally it stepped into the full firelight, crouching its large black fur-covered body down to a crouch, the blazing red of its eyes dulling down to black almost human-like orbs. It cocked its helmet-like head at her. The creature was hideous, and staring intently at her.

It probably didn’t understand a lick of what she was saying but nonetheless she babbled on.

“I work at the bar just over the bridge, if you like whiskey. Maybe pizza even? You don’t want to eat poor skinny Rey here, right? Not when there’s tasty tasty pizza instead!”

God help her, she even laughed at the end, a nervous bubble of a giggle before the dread kicked in.

“Where am I?”

She didn’t expect an answer, until that deep voice she’d heard before returned.

_ “You’re my guest.” _

Had its mouth even moved? Was she imaging it? Was this just some fucked up dream and she was still passed out in her car being eaten alive by a wolf or feral rabbit?

“What happened to that deer?” she asked, suddenly remembering how she even got into this situation.

_ “You mean that uppity waste of fur that should have been my dinner? You’ll be relieved to know I have no idea.”  _

She blindly reached behind her, trying to feel for a rock she could use to defend herself but it seemed to understand her intent.

_ “You still want to kill me?” _

“That’s what happens when you’re being hunted by a creature.”

It seemed to consider her words for a moment, then lifted its hands to cover his face then raising up to reveal the moth-like face gone, instead a long, pale human face stared back at her with those same intense black eyes. She furrowed her brows in confusion, her gaze scanning him down and up for a quick second. His body was still creature-like, but his face was...not what she had expected.

“Tell me, why were you in my woods so late?”

“These woods are Point Pleasant public property and currently a no hunting zone, which you’ve…”

“Been in clear violation of, yes I know. Answer me now girl, make this easier on yourself.”

“I was going home.”

“Where is home?”

She scoffed.

“I won’t even tell my best customers where I live, you think I’ll tell you?”

“We’ll see…” he hissed, moving closer to her as one his clawed hands hovered inches above her face. She tensed up, frozen in the spot. What was he doing? Would this be the moment her life was over, in some dank cave in the middle of the woods with only $25 in her pocket and strangled by a bloody fucking moth! 

And then she felt it, as it someone was knocking on and opening a door in her mind she never knew existed.

“You’re so lonely but too afraid to leave. At night, desperate to sleep in those scant hours before dawn. You dream of an ocean. I see it. I see the island.”

She could feel the trickle of warm tears trail from her eyes. No one had ever known that, her dreams that were a distant memory of where she was born, where she’d likely never see again. 

He plundered through the corners of her mind and it made her angry, left her feeling raw and exposed. So she fought back, trying to push with her mind and stumbling to muster up some type of defense, some way to get this creature with that sinful face out of her every intimate thought. He seemed to sense her struggle.

“Don’t be afraid, I feel it too.”

But she persisted, gritting her teeth as she pushed and prodded in her own right until her mind locked onto a rush of feelings foreign to her own; she could sense his name, or the one he chose, Kylo. His emotions churned like a storm, full of anger, hurt, conflict, a loneliness as consuming as hers, and something else. Something he tried to deny and bury. 

“You...you’re afraid? That you’ll never be as strong as your ancestor!” she stated tersely, surprised by her own revelation of the knowledge and clearly he was as well from the way his eyes widened and he stumbled back. 

What in the Holy Name of Bowie had just happened? How had she  _ done _ that? He seemed just as stunned as her, but then he waved a hand in front of her face and she was quickly thrust back into black, dreamless sleep.


End file.
